


Fire in a world of ice

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: Tim Drake AU's [24]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Faerie Folklore, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Tim Drake, Canon Typical Violence, Creepy Tim Drake, Dark Tim Drake, Fae Magic, Gen, Lethal Tim Drake, Morally Grey Tim Drake, Temporary Character Death, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake is So Done, Tim Drake is something, Tim Drake is something else, Tim Drake isn't human, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: Janet Drake wasn't human when she "married" Jack Drake. Nor was she alone. Instead, Jack Drake now holds her hostage with her name.Tim suffers the consequences, trapped in a world so unlike his own, he has to adapt as Gotham tries to swallow them whole.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake, Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Tim Drake AU's [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853161
Comments: 304
Kudos: 570
Collections: TimDrake works you should read





	1. Promises and names

**Author's Note:**

> So I already have 7 chapters typed up. But the chapters are fairly short? 
> 
> And also, this was supposed to be like Tim is fae but it kind of devolved from there... So Tim is still fae but now is also just...weird. 
> 
> Anyway, I love Fae mythology and lore but if I get anything wrong, please comment what is wrong and how I can fix it.

"Promise me. No matter what anyone says. No matter how comfortable it gets. Timothy is not your name. Promise me that you will never allow it to become your name. Promise me" 

A name.

Such a simple concept. A mix of letters, vowels and consonants that form up the word that is used to address a specific person. Assigned at birth by the parents of the child according to family tradition, sex assigned at birth, personal preference or some mix of the above. 

And yet. A name is what makes up this person's personality. Their identity. They may gather labels, likes and dislikes during their time but they will forever be themselves. The name encompasses all that is them. 

Such an important thing. Yet used to frivolously. Openly. Displaying a person's whole being in a single word. 

"Timothy Drake" the teacher calls from the front of the class, continuing with roll call. Tim calling out a bland "here" as he continues to stare at his textbook. Waiting for anything new. Anything interesting. 

But this is not home. Nothing appears to draw his interest. No peers follow in his footsteps to create mischief. 

No. 

This is Tim's "new home". A place of rigidity, schedule and rules. Nothing like home. 

When mother first escorted him away from their home, Tim had thought that it would be interesting. Living in the human world. Pretending to be one of them. 

But now all he can do is wait and hope to go home soon. It is unlikely, despite mother's best interest. The man who had caught her interest having discovered her true name. Thus trapping her here like a selkie with their skin. It is cruel, Tim thinks, remembering one of the other woman who wilted away before their eyes, pelt kept captive in a cellar beyond her reach. 

This world is different. Too different for Tim to truly adjust. These people. These children. Much too soft. It makes Tim want to poke at their insecurities, their hopes and dreams. Poke at them with a knife until they start to bleed. The wounds healing into hardened scar tissue. 

One of the small girls in front of him start sniffling, proving his point and Tim has to tilt his head at the tears dripping down her chin. Tim never would have exposed such weakness. Would never have exposed his own vulnerabilities that way. 

Here, the vulnerability almost seems...encouraged, Tim thinks, watching the teacher hand the sniveling girl a candy. It is very strange to Tim. Unnerving in a way he had never expected. 

"Home" is not much better. Tim's mother tense and angry, though the man on the couch hardly seems to notice. "Janet" standing still as Jack Drake watches some sort of sport on the large TV in the living room, his back turned to her. 

Tim knows that that is a mistake. Knows that if his mother had not been bound, the man would be dead. She would not hesitate to exploit the weakness. However, his mother is bound by her word. By her name. 

The man will live for now. 

The man does not know Tim's true name. Tim will never speak it. He knows the consequences. He is now living the consequences, seeing his mother's frustration at being unable to act. 

This man will never control him in the same way. Tim will not allow it. 

Silently, Tim turns to retreat upstairs, to his assigned quarters, stopped by Jack Drake, as he asks "Name?", as he has every other day for the last month. Tim refuses to give. He has all the time in the world and this man cannot hurt him in any substantial way. 

"Timothy Drake" Tim states blandly, watching his mother's lips tip slightly in approval. Knows that he has her respect as her son. 

Jack Drake does not react well, standing quickly in his fury. Tim does not hesitate at the sign of overeagerness. Does not wait before pinning his so-called "father" to the spot with his blank, ice-like eyes. 

It is the stare of a predator. The stare a lion gives to an unruly mouse. Amused but that could quickly change. Dangerous. Jack backs down quickly after that. Even he knows when he is outmatched. 

He may have my mother under control, Tim thinks with vehemence. 

But I will not bow to you.


	2. Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janet takes Tim to the circus in a hope of blending in. Tim should have known that misfortune tends to follow wherever he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Update schedule. I was thinking once a week? On a Monday maybe?

Mother takes Tim to the circus once, seeing his boredom at his peers and the lack of activity that interests him.   
She makes her offer while Jack is in the room, stating that it will “make them look more normal” and “help them blend into the normal populous”. But Tim knows that she is as enamoured with the idea of seeing anything else but the manor walls, as he is.   
The idea of contortionists and tightrope walkers, flame breathers and strongmen. It reminds them of home. Or at least seems more like home than the curated, sterile environment they’ve been forced to live in for the past while. 

Mother says, once Jack leaves, that is the last gift she can give Tim. That Jack has booked plane tickets to a country far away. That she will be leaving with him once they get her falsified passport ready. She seems regretful of leaving Tim behind but he can understand. He is old enough to be without mother. And mother can no longer give him any protection. There is no need for Tim to come along.   
Especially since that would put him in range of Jack’s manipulation. It is better that Tim stays.  
It makes Tim itch for a blade to ram into Jack’s spine, to watch him fall and beg and plead. To make him cower for every speck of freedom. Like he is doing to mother. But Tim understands. If Jack dies at Tim’s hand, he is likely to take mother with him. And mother does not wish to die. Not yet. 

Jack agrees to the circus visit, citing that he will come along to monitor their activity. But Tim strongly suspects that Jack will abandon them in pursuit of a mistress or alcohol. Tim just doesn’t care. 

Xxxxxxxx

On the way in, mother asks a random group of performers for a picture. They do agree, even if they look sceptical of Jack’s irritated mutterings. They do seem less wary of Tim, pinching his cheeks and patting his head, telling him how cute he is. If only they knew that Tim is the most dangerous one in the family at the moment.   
The small one, the couple’s child, even tells Tim that he will do a trick “just for you Timmy”, a “special flip” called a quadruple somersault. And despite the fact that that isn’t Tim’s name, it makes Tim feel…special. 

The circus is loud and colourful, with many different people in the crowd and on-stage. The elephant is large but dressed in colours that make it seem smaller. There are many things that should catch his eye, like the lion tamer or the bears that dance on balls. 

Tim, however, finds himself intrigued by 2 particular people. The couple that he took a picture with outside. The ringmaster introduces them as the flying Graysons, but as mother explains, these people have no wings with which to fly. Instead they use momentum and impressive physical training to stay in the air and perform tricks. A loving husband and wife pair with a young son. They perform an array of tricks, flips and somersaults in mid-air, sometimes only hanging from the other person’s fingers. It is a great display of trust.   
Tim finds that he likes them.

It does not last long. Even as Tim recognises the screech of a banshee behind them, from another time and place, he cannot bring himself to look away. He sees the frayed line they are dangling from snap and leave them to the mercy of gravity. He watches these people fall  
Fall  
Fall. 

They hit the ground with a muffled thud, the sound of dying breaths and crunching bones hidden by the screams of the audience as they scramble to leave. And through it all, no-one manages to spot the young boy approaching the bodies of his parents. No-one, it seems but the dark shadow in the rafters. 

At first, Tim thinks that he might be witnessing a shadow creature, or a servant of some sort. But when it drops down, it breaks the illusion, showing merely black fabric giving the illusion of shadows. The human dressed as a creature attempts to placate the small child, trying to draw them away from the horrifying sight before them.   
The child struggles vigorously, crying and sobbing, even asking after their parents and begging them to wake up. The parents will never wake up. 

Instead, the human gives them facts, calming the child slowly with shows of physical affection. And in the midst, Tim can see the human creature survey their surroundings as if investigating. Interesting, Tim thinks, leaning forward as to get a better look at the frayed line.   
The line…is not frayed. Not by age. However, the line seems to be mostly cut through.   
Sabotage.   
Murder. 

Maybe mother was right about this being more like home, Tim thinks with a small smile, remembering the various murder attempts on his person by his peers.

That’s all Tim can see before Jack storms into the circus tent “Why can’t either of you react like normal people? They’re going to think we’re psychopaths!” he yells, looking directly at Mother, as she is the only one he can control. He has tried with Tim before and learned his lesson.   
“Come on then. We’re going back to the mansion and we are not going to leave it for something so inane again” Jack says, grabbing Mother’s wrist in the hand with the wrought iron ring. He muffles her small yelp by declaring that someone should call 911. He then proceeds to drag mother along her wrist out to the car, not waiting for Tim to follow. 

Tim stays long enough to see the human creature pick the child up and start walking toward a line of officers before he turns to exit. He brushes right past 2 people in uniforms, brushing by their awareness with ease as they focus on the scene in front of them. After all, Tim is easy to miss. That has always been an advantage of his. 

But even as the circus tent closes up behind them, Tim can still hear the wail of the banshee mourning more people unable to hear her screams.


	3. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's life goes on as Janet and Jack travel. Tim finally notices something about Robin....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I have decided the update schedule. I will be posting on Mondays and Thursdays.

Years later, Tim is alone in the mansion he so despises. Mother is away with Jack, off to some place to discover long forgotten artefacts of a civilisation long destroyed.   
They do not call.   
Mother knows that Tim is more than able to look after himself. Knows that he is capable of defending himself. Knows that he has no choice. Jack, however, simply does not care. Tim has refused to give Jack his name every time Jack has asked for years now. Jack knows that Tim will never willingly give it. And mother cannot be ordered to say it, either.   
Jack cannot control Tim and for that reason, Tim is of no use to him.

The people around Tim seem to find the behaviour of his parents disturbing for some reason. Teachers asking again and again and again if he has a nanny, if his parents check in with him, asking who cooks or cleans. They cite something about Child protection and neglect, but Tim simply smiles, tilts his head innocently and tell them that they shouldn’t bother.   
They tend to leave him alone after they forget the first time, Tim’s smile the only memory of that conversation. 

Over the last while, Tim has been…adapting, to the new society and their strange rules and habits. He no longer openly stares at weeping children with confusion. He has accepted that this is a fundamentally human action. And he has learned that it is an action not limited by age, as adult humans partake in as well, though not as often.   
He still finds it strange. And will never partake in this action himself, but he thinks that he understands now. 

A few hiccups over the years have taught him that the cultural divide between his kind and the humans is very large. That people don’t enjoy when a child has a very well thought out and carefully worded answer. That children don’t expect violence and are typically shielded from the worst of the world’s horrors. And with every hiccup, he learns. 

School is still boring, with little mischief and very little interesting interruptions. Tim absorbs information effortlessly, giving him an unfair advantage in the schooling system due to his, genetic reliance on the importance of wording. Remembering the exact wording of any agreement or deal, even menial information like dates and treaties if he focusses.   
He easily charms his teachers, unfortunately managing to antagonise his peers in the process, only drawing the companionship of the so called “nerds”. However, many children approach him with baseless intensions of using him, as “Drake heir”, to their own benefit.   
Of course, there’s never proof of his retaliation. 

The only interesting thig is that he finally found the human creature from the circus. Apparently, they are called “Batman”, a pseudonym by any stretch of the imagination. And Tim’s interest only deepens at the thought that this human understands the importance of names. However, this Batman only uses their name to fight crime in the city, which is apparently known for having a very high crime rate. 

Tim obsesses over Batman for months, following news stories, television and gossip. He also tentatively follows the child from the circus. Dick Grayson.   
Which is how he figures it out. 

Tim knew about Robin before, obviously. Batman’s colourful sidekick, dressed in red, green and yellow, named after a small bird. But he’s never paid much attention to the bright one as Batman.   
That changes one night, when Tim is watching a broadcast of Batman and Robin fighting henchmen. 

Robin launches, flips once, twice, three times. Four. A quadruple somersault, just like the boy at the circus promised to do for Tim. “The only people in the world who can perform the quadruple somersault!” Tim remembers the ringmaster announcing before the fall. 

It clicks. 

Dick Grayson is Robin. 

Dick Grayson was adopted by Bruce Wayne. 

Batman saved Dick that night at the circus. 

Bruce Wayne was in the audience. Tim can even remember Jack muttering something about “airhead Wayne” in the audience. 

Bruce Wayne has access to money to build the gadgets Batman uses. 

Bruce Wayne has access to an R&D department to design and create the gadgets for him. 

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It is right after that revelation that Tim becomes fully obsessed with Batman and Robin. Following them around at night, tracking their patrol patterns. Going out at night and blending into the shadows so well that the shadows themselves don’t even notice him lurking, skating by his hiding spot with a shudder.   
Each night, he goes out. He finds them. He takes pictures, just like that time at the circus. And eventually finds a place to develop those pictures, buying a darkroom on Jack Drake’s cost. Not that he notices. 

But no matter. Tim has something new now. Something interesting.


	4. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expounding a bit on Tim and how he can influence people. Also Creepy!Tim is here.

“Now what do we have here?” a voice behind Tim asks, intonation curious but somewhat, wrong. The cadence just a bit off. Like the hesitation before a lie. The taste of a fake name on his tongue. 

Tim turns around blandly, slowly turning his body to face the new obstacle. He makes sure to hide some of his more, noticeable features in case this person is human but his eyes are still too bright in the dark, reflecting a light that doesn’t come from his surroundings.   
Behind him, stands a person. But not any person, of course. As no normal person would be standing on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in Gotham at 2AM in the morning, watching the darkness of Gotham retreat back into the streets from which it came. 

No. 

This person is someone Tim knows about from newscasts and discussions. Complaints from his classmates.   
Catwoman.   
The famous Gotham-based thief that has never been caught. 

Now, Tim is intrigued. His eyes still glow unnaturally bright and his sharpened teeth still dig into his lips but he hesitates on his plan on killing them, just for now.   
She must see the threat in his posture as something primal in her tells her to run, to hide, that something isn’t right. But she impresses Tim by stiffening her shoulders and moving closer instead. 

“What’s a cute little child doing all the way up here?” she asks, voice more wary now, aware of her natural inclinations.   
Tim can’t help but have a little but of…fun. He blunts his teeth and widens his eyes, cheeks puffy and young, hiding his camera behind his back like he’s seen classmates do with things they aren’t supposed to have. Purposefully mimics the stance of a guilty child. It makes Catwoman relax subtly before she meets his eyes again, tensing at the feeling of Wrong that rushes over her.   
And Tim can’t help but smile. 

Many humans have a bad habit of ignoring their “gut instinct” as they like to call it. The uncanny feeling that something is wrong even though there is nothing identifiably wrong. This is fortunate for Tim, as he has a habit of instilling that feeling. All of his kind do.   
Humans learned to tell when something is just slightly Off. Just ever so slightly.   
But the descendants of the people who earned that skill through blood and tears have elected to ignore these feelings. Which is their decision to make, of course, no matter how wrong that decision is.

This human, on the other hand, seems to favour the way of her namesake. Cats do have an uncanny ability to know that there is something Wrong. And they rarely neglect that instinct. This human seems to be following in their footsteps. Though not perfectly. She is wary. She is aware. But she does not run. She does not hide. And that, would usually be her mistake. 

But Tim is now interested. 

He smiles at her with blunted teeth and sparkling eyes, the picture of innocence as he forcibly focuses his eyes, mimicking the slitted pupil of a cat for a mere moment as she tenses into a position to defend herself.   
“I’m just taking some pictures” Tim says, voice smooth and sure in a way he can’t allow with normal people around him. They find it too strange. But with her…well, she can’t judge. And she doesn’t know him. 

The voice focuses her eyes on his lips, brows drawing together at the child’s face that she sees “Pictures of what?” she asks in response, subtly relaxing as the conversation continues and her mind adjusts to the way Tim influences her. To most people, that would be deadly, letting your guard down like that. But she is still wary, still guarded. Tim finds that he likes that.   
“Things” Tim answers slowly, voice drawing out as he smiles. 

Now, the woman simply looks impressed, looking at Tim strangely, yes but with something like contemplation in her stance.   
“It’s very late” she muses, running a hand over the banister in an almost sensual way. Though now that Tim is paying attention, that seems to be how she does most things, almost involuntarily. Habit.   
Interesting. 

Tim tilts his head to the side, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he takes in the observations. “It is actually quite early, Ms. Kyle” Tim answers, mimicking the innocence of a child in his voice.   
She tenses, the splay of her fingers tightening into fists as she instinctively turns to face him fully. “How do you know my name?” she demands a second later, her voice laced with threat, attempting to mask the panic woven into her very being.   
Tim doesn’t move. Just keeps staring at her, straight through the goggles on her cap and into her eyes “Why Ms. Kyle, you should be more careful when observing potential victims at galas. The watches and bracelets may slip off so easily but who knows who’s watching from the shadows” Tim explains, remembering the way she had slipped a solid gold watch from Bruce Wayne’s wrist at the Christmas gala. Covering the sensation by creating different tactile points. 

Her eyes narrow slightly before she takes in his relaxed posture and the way that he doesn’t seem phased. Then, she forcibly relaxes her body with a deep sigh. “You gonna rat me out?” she asks, voice losing its seductive tremor.   
“No” Tim answers plainly.   
“Why not?” She asks next, sounding unsurprised but curious as she moves to sit next to Tim’s crouching place.   
“Hmmm. That is quite a question. Would it satisfy you if I said that I don’t care?” Tim asks, looking down at the car ears attached to her hood. When she looks up at him and shakes her head, he smiles, teeth just a bit sharper “While it is true that I do not care, as the people you target simply lose monetary value and do not lose anything important. I will say that I am mostly just…interested” Tim explains honestly. 

Her head jerks up again to observe him as she asks “You don’t care that I steal thousands of dollars from these people?”   
And Tim doesn’t stop smiling as he replies “No, I don’t”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I think it’s fair” is all he says back to her incredulous question, refusing to elaborate further. 

“You are one strange kid” She finally voices as she stands, hand unconsciously on her whip as she refuses to turn her back to him. But. She does seem to trust him. Even if her instincts are screaming.   
When she launches away from the building, heading towards the diamond district, Tim smiles, opening his closed hand to see the lovely, tiny blue rock he’d slipped from her pouch as she fought her own instincts.


	5. Something new and something gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW. Implied temporary character death

Tim doesn’t see much of Ms. Kyle after that, nor Catwoman. She hadn’t recognized him and he knows that when she tries remembering his face, she won’t quite be able to. Tim can, of course, lift that particular effect if he so chooses. But where’s the fun in that?   
Instead, he watches her glance at corners and shadows during galas, turning suddenly to face him when he passes with a smile. He watches her embrace the feeling of “something is wrong” and then act on it. She doesn’t even know what is going on. But she trusts her instincts. Tim finds it makes him even more fond of her. 

He doesn’t see her again for a long while, as she avoids Batman. The reason? Mostly due to the fights Batman and Robin seem to have. Dick seems to be growing past Bruce’s apparent comfort levels, leading to fights that media seem to imply is common for that stage of the human life cycle.   
Eventually, Robin disappears, leaving only Batman.   
It’s strange to see the darkness alone now, not accompanied by the bright flutter of light and colour. It almost seems wrong. The darkness of the city not able to be broken up by a man just as dark, just as gritty and grimy and broken as Gotham itself seems to be. 

The streets’ darkness takes longer to retreat at dawn, shadows clinging to every rough brick wall. The air becomes heavier, with darkness and emotion as there is nothing to cut through. The shadows, usually dispersed by Robin’s laughter, cling to Batman’s cloak like an extra weight.   
And nobody else seems to notice.

But Tim keeps following Batman anyway, taking pictures and keeping up with the Titans as Dick tries out a new alias of Nightwing. Following as he shifts from being Robin everywhere to being Robin only with the Titans. Then being Nightwing occasionally. And then becoming Nightwing permanently, as he moves to Bludhaven.   
A city just as muddled and dark as Gotham, tainted with just as much blood as the name implies. 

That’s when the new Robin appears. 

More violent. Crass. More knowledgeable of the streets. Less showy than Dick used to be. Fighting more with fists and less with flips.   
Of course, there is the perfunctory flips and splits that people have become accustomed to from Dick, but they seem more like an act. They were part of Dick’s very being. They are not part of this new Robins’. 

Of course, Bruce Wayne adopted a child off the streets not long before the new Robin appeared, brash and crass. The people at galas seem to have a clear distaste of him, at least. As do Tim’s peers at school. They say that he doesn’t belong. They call him “street rat” and “trash”. But Tim hears the story of Bruce’s adoption and cannot help but wonder what this child did to attract the attention of Batman. 

Tim likes him.   
The violence. The clear intentions. The way he won’t stand for people to suffer unneeded. But especially the way he makes Jack’s fellow “trust fund babies” uncomfortable simply by telling them the truth. Unbridled and unfiltered in a way that makes them flinch and protest and cough delicately in an attempt to make him stop. 

Tim starts going out more and staying out longer. The tone of his pictures change from brooding Bats to laughing Robins. Their patrol route shifts slightly closer to the area of Gotham that is plagued most by the darkness of the city.   
Jason Todd drives the change.   
Tim sees him sneak granola bars to the homeless children and check up on the prostitutes. Sees him take down rapists and human traffickers with more force than he does with gang members and thieves.   
He has his way of driving change. He has his opinions and they will be heard whether he can actually voice them or not. 

Crime falls again, as the dark Batman is once again trailed by a bright birdy.   
The shadows driven back by the flash of a bright yellow cape. The darkness lurking on the streets dispersed by a smile. The screams of the tormented silenced for a moment by a quip or a pun. The darkness of Gotham retreats back to its position once again, drawing the blackness back to its former place. 

Even Batman himself seems lighter, seems happier with a Robin by his side and a flash of a bright cape in the corner of his vision. He protests the use of excessive force, calling Jason away from an abuser, who taunts Robin for leaving like a coward, readying a brick in his hand. Only for Batman to punch him in the face and growl at him for hitting children.  
It seems good for him. 

Xxxxxx

Of course, it doesn’t last long. Gotham can’t allow the changes Jason attempts to make. Can’t allow the light in the heart of the darkness that he seems to be. (“Being Robin gives me magic”)

It starts with a simple dilemma. The person Batman and Robin caught is too powerful to go to jail. He is released. Jason is, understandably enraged by this, as is Tim. Gotham takes steps to correct this.   
Robin confronts Garzonas on a rooftop, threatening him with the gangs and mobs that will come after him. The man flinches backwards, startled by the truth ringing through Jason’s every word. And when Jason turns his back, Garzonas falls. And Gotham cackles as Jason tries desperately to save him. And can’t.

Batman somehow blames Jason for the death, thinking that Robin pushed a criminal off of a building. But Jason’s voice rings true when he pleads that he didn’t do it. However, Batman can’t hear it. He benches Robin, leading to fights. Even worse than the fights Bruce had with Dick.   
Then, Robin disappears. Gone one night, out of the blue, on a plane to Ethiopia with an identity that doesn’t exist. An identity completely unconnected to Bruce Wayne. An identity that it anything but Jason Todd. 

He doesn’t come back.


	6. Fallout (Shelter in place)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of Jason's death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Tim's blurry morals and the justice that Joker deserves.

Jason Todd dies in Ethiopia with broken ribs and smoke inhalation, with burn marks and bruises. 

Bruce Wayne covers it up as a car accident. His fellows almost trip over themselves to console him and “apologize for his loss”. Mother and Jack even come back from their trip so that Jack can attempt getting into Bruce’s good graces.   
Tim can see that none of it is helping. The act of being an airhead is impeding in his grieving process. The twitch of his hands make it obvious how his grief wishes to express itself. 

The funeral is large and public, with too many people weeping over a boy they despised. But Tim is only there for one reason. 

Looking into the casket from a place nowhere can see him, he sees Jason Todd, eyes closed, dressed in a suit he would have despised. Skin pale and sallow and burnt. But it is Jason Todd. Tim can see the residual brightness around his chest, a glow of good that most people in the city lack. It’s being snuffed out in death.   
Tim can even hear the screech of banshees from home, feeling his grief reverberate through reality.   
Because Tim had liked Jason. Jason had been interesting. Honest. Fun.   
And now, he is dead. Never again would his brightness drive away the shadows or chase the darkness from the streets. 

It’s wasteful. 

But Tim doesn’t care at the moment. All he cares about is the person who caused the grief that swells in Tim’s chest. The person who killed Jason. The person who tortured him. The Joker would suffer for what he’d done.   
Of course, Batman hadn’t yet found Joker when he comes back, but Tim doesn’t need to find Joker to get to him, instead, Tim listens to the screams. He closes his eyes and lets himself wander, led by the screams of the innocent, the wisps of their lights fading as they’re crushed. 

Tim finds Joker in Gotham, wandering into the warehouse blindly before coming to a stop. The henchmen around Tim falter, the feeling of being watched sinking into their bones as Tim stares at each and every one of them. But their eyes skate off of Tim like oil over water.   
Joker is in the midst of…something. Tim doesn’t really care what it is. What he does care about is the ripped, bloody segment of cape Joker is waving at a shocked Harley Quinn. Jason’s cape.   
It makes Tim see red. 

He’s in front of Joker in a moment, meeting the eyes of a supposed madman. But Tim can see deeper than that. Can see past the layer of projected insanity and see what’s underneath. Not a man with blurred moral lines, like Tim is prone to. Not a man who doesn’t know the difference between fiction and reality like Mad Hatter. Not a man driven by any mental illness that could cause harm. No, instead, Tim sees a man who is fully aware of what he’s doing, how much pain it causes and why it’s wrong. But chooses to ignore all of that to make people suffer. 

“Make them leave” Tim orders, the name Joker filling his head as he stares at the green eyes of a man who has no empathy but for himself. Unwillingly, Joker turns to Harley and his henchmen, telling them to “Get out of here” as Tim breathes deeply, calming the ice racing in his veins.   
Once everyone is gone, Tim allows the shadows to slip from his shoulders, Joker’s eyes catching on his form just as Tim decides to drop all pretence of humanity. 

Tim’s eyes brighten to a glowing ice blue, clear even in the darkness of the night, his teeth sharpen as his smile widens beyond what is normal for any human. Skin lightening and reflecting the shadows that humans can’t see as he stares Joker down. 

“Joker. I would call you Mr. Napier but I don’t think that’s your name anymore. So, Joker. You made a choice. And you are going to suffer for it” Tim says, his smile widening even further as Joker stays rooted to the floor by terror.   
In his head, Tim runs over the various ways he could kill Joker. He could stab him. Slit his throat. Bleed him dry. Send him into shock. Death be fear is always interesting. But. Tim could always beat him to death like Joker did with Jason. Suffocate him. Burn him alive. A combination of the above.

While Tim thinks, Joker falls over himself trying to scramble backwards, falling onto his back and hitting his head as he scrambles further backwards, eyes fixed on Tim’s too bright eyes and the unnatural number of teeth showing through his lips. The temperature drops several degrees between them as the shadows slash and lash out.   
Then. Joker laughs. And Tim is thrown from his musings by the sound of hysterical laughter, echoing around them and seeping the warehouse walls in Black. 

“What’s so funny?” Tim asks emotionlessly, moving to stand in front of Joker as his smile droops.   
Joker takes a moment to stop laughing, meeting Tim’s eyes with an almost suppressed flinch that shows Tim just how scared the man in front of him actually is “Kill me” Joker demands, a challenge if Tim’s ever heard one. 

Before Joker can blink, Tim’s hand is wrapped around Joker’s throat, squeezing and tightening as cold seeps from his fingers. Joker’s skin slowly turning blue as he chokes for air. He looks shocked, like he expected Tim not to take him up on his offer. But he’s wrong. Tim came here for a reason and that reason is to punish Joker for harming his friend.   
But as Tim watches the green of Joker’s eyes fade slightly, a voice whispers in his ear “Not good enough” and Tim lets go.   
He shouldn’t listen to the voices. Knows that the human world works differently to the world of home. But just this once, Tim will listen to his own instincts. Will listen to the banshees screams and the shadows whisper as he looks down at the human at his feet. 

He smiles again when Joker’s face regains colour, still spluttering and coughing and shivering. 

“You want madness, Joker?” Tim asks with a clear voice, kneeling down to look at Joker’s eyes once again. “I’ll give you madness” Tim finishes, eyes flashing bright blue as the shadows surge forward, flooding into Joker’s eyes and swirling there impatiently. Breaking down his mind section by section and memory by memory as Tim watches Joker convulse on the floor.   
By the time the shadows are finished, Joker cannot stop laughing, only interrupted by mutterings of absolute nonsense, broken words and thoughts. His mind broken beyond any repair.   
He doesn’t move, limbs twitching unwillingly as his mind refuses to compute any tactile input. 

And Tim can’t help but smile before drawing the shadows closer with a beckon to take him back home. 

Surely, someone would find Joker before he starves.


	7. Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd is dead. And Batman needs a Robin.

Batman needs a Robin. 

That is the conclusion Tim draws from watching Batman after Jason’s death. Batman is darker, covered with more shadows, darker black than before. There’s no colour to break it. No light. 

Tim watches as Batman beats thugs within an inch of their lives. Watches as he tortures drug manufacturers for information. Watches as he chases Dick away and resists any help. Watches as the darkness swallows him whole.   
The worst, is when Batman finds the Joker, incapacitated, broken and clearly not all there. It doesn’t stop Batman from beating Joker into a full body cast. And that’s only because Dick was there to hold Bruce back from physically beating him to death.

That’s what makes Tim come to the conclusion that Batman needs a Robin. The breaking point, so to speak. Because Batman doesn’t kill. That’s a thing. And Tim understands that things may change. But this doesn’t. Tim can see it weighing on Bruce when he isn’t drowning in his grief, can see regret swirl in his eyes if he allows himself to stop. 

Batman needs a Robin.   
And thus, Tim goes off to find one. 

Tim’s first stop is naturally Bludhaven. Where he plans to find Dick and convince him to go back to Bruce. He wanders the streets looking for the spark of light he knows so well and finally comes face to door at an apartment building that looks like it’s seen better days. The red brick is flaking off the wall on the parts that aren’t covered in graffiti. Some of the buzzers seems to have some suspicious substance on it and the door may actually be made of cardboard.   
But Tim swallows his objections and presses the button, ignoring the stains on some of the others as he waits for someone to open the door. 

Tim can hear Dick scrambling inside the door as he rushes around, can hear multiple handsprings and flips, apparently in an attempt to reach the door quicker. “Pizza!” Dick exclaims as soon as the door opens, a wide, goofy smile on his face as he extends a hand with a few bills towards Tim.   
Once he sees that Tim is: Firstly, not wearing a uniform, and secondly, not holding any pizza, he instantly becomes suspicious, brows drawing together and hand withdrawing back to his person. 

“Who are you?” Dick asks, looking slightly less suspicions as he takes in Tim’s stature and age. If only he knew what a mistake that was.   
“I’m Tim and we need to talk” Tim says, injecting a bit of youth and self-consciousness into his voice, to keep up the appearance of a normal human child.   
“OK then, Tim. What do we need to talk about?” Dick asks, and Tim almost lashes out at the sheer condescending tone of voice he uses. He physically has to stop himself from crumpling the picture in his right hand.   
“Batman and Robin” Tim answers, trying to keep it vague as he can lest he freak Dick out.   
But Dick just subtly tenses and asks “What about them?” so Tim swarms shadows and noise around them, blocking any possible way for any human to hear or see what they’re doing, but subtly as he says plainly “I know you’re Nightwing”. 

Dick’s eyes widen completely before he pulls Tim into his apartment by Tim’s hoodie sleeve, slamming the door shut behind them as soon as he checks that there aren’t people in the vicinity who could have heard that.   
“Why would you say that?” Dick asks, still attempting to sound casual as he asks, attempting to play it off. But Tim has known since he was 9.   
“The night of your parents’ death, I was there” Tim starts, handing Dick the picture of himself and the Grayson family “You and your parents were the only people able to do the quadruple somersault. That is fact. So when Robin does the same trick, it isn’t hard to fit the pieces together” Tim explains further, watching as Dick stares down at the picture with something like reverence. 

“So what do you want?” Dick asks, still not looking up from the picture as he asks, tone dead and flat but not suspicious.   
“I don’t want anything. I’m here to ask you to do something” Tim admits, careful with his wording, as he does not want to be indebted to this man.   
“What is it?”  
“Go back to Gotham and to be Robin again” Tim says clearly. 

Dick looks up at him quickly, expression filled with rage as he snarls “No”, shoving the picture back into Tim’s chest. He looks sad and angry and grieving.   
“Batman needs you. He needs a Robin” Tim says, knowing that most people would say please but not willing to stretch that far.   
“Then you go be Robin” Dick says, shoving Tim out of the apartment and slamming the door behind his back. 

Tim doesn’t quite understand. Doesn’t quite know how to react so he simply stands there for a few moments before starting to head back to the bus stop. 

If Dick won’t be Robin, then Batman will just have to listen. 

Xxxxxxx

Standing in front of Wayne manor, Tim can barely summon up the conviction that brought him here. The manor is steeped in Black, slowly covering the residue to Blue and Red that Dick and Jason left behind. But he has to. Something has to be done, so Tim takes a breath and knocks on the door.   
Moments later, an elderly man opens the door for Tim, smiling down at him kindly but with a tinge of confusion. His smile is strained, like something went horribly wrong before he opened the door. But he greets Tim cheerfully “Mister Timothy Drake. To what do we owe the pleasure?”. 

And Tim is done with pleasantries. They do not work here. They are not needed here. In fact, blunt would work better.  
“I know that Bruce Wayne is Batman. I know that Jason Todd was Robin. I know that Dick Grayson is Nightwing. I need to talk to him” Tim says loudly, watching Alfred Pennyworth’s eyes widen in shock before forcibly relaxing and stepping aside to allow Tim entry. He tells Tim to wait in the living room while he fetches “Master Bruce”.   
So Tim waits. 

The discussion does not go well, with Tim trying to convince Bruce to get Dick to come back. Bruce refuses, so caught up in his own grief that he can’t see the damage that he’s doing to himself. In desperation, Tim even offers to become Robin himself. He may not be as bright or light as Dick or Jason, but he could cut through the darkness surrounding Batman. At least until someone else comes along.   
That’s what breaks Bruce, causes him to throw Tim out of the manor with a string order to leave Bruce alone. 

But Tim isn’t done. 

Batman needs a Robin. And Tim is proven right when not a day later, both Dick and Bruce are captured. Alfred calls him, gives him an extra Robin suit and sends him in to save Batman and Nightwing. And Tim succeeds. 

After that, Bruce gives in. Allowing Tim to become Robin and starting his training.


	8. Young Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short filler chapter with the introduction of Young Justice.

Tim doesn't quite understand the point of teams. Doesn't see the point of introducing even more weak points to a fight. But as he reads up on psychology to help Bruce, he keeps seeing the notion of support structures. Humans that keep their friends and family safe and sane and stable.   
Dick won't help Bruce, too caught up in his own grief and guilt to be able to do anything helpful. Alfred is always present and is always attempting to help but he isn't enough. And Tim is the band-aid trying to plug a bullet hole.   
But Bruce has other people as well. The Justice League. Other heroes. Friends. 

With that, Tim decides to help Bruce Wayne build up a system to relieve the grief he feels now. As well as prevent any future problems that may crop up. And for that, Tim has to meet other heroes, has to see them and evaluate them. Has to ensure that they'll help. 

It starts with Kon El. Conner Kent. The Superman clone that Tim can tell isn't completely correct. There's something there that isn't in Clark. There's a distinct difference between them. They're each their own person. But Kon doesn't quite believe that.   
Then, Bart Allen. The speedster from the distant future. The person Tim can tell is brighter than he should be. An optimist on all fronts.   
Lastly, Cassandra Sandsmark. Wonder Girl. Not an Amazon but affiliated with Wonder Woman enough for it not to matter. The successor of Donna Troy. 

These 3 people help Tim build connections within the hero community. Kon helps Tim get in touch with Clark, which helps take the brunt of Bruce's anger off of the Justice league as Superman takes most of the yelling. Cassie helps Tim keep in touch with Wonder Woman as Diana talks to Bruce, trying to help him through this rough patch. Barry, unfortunately can't do much. But Tim realises the importance of keeping up with confidants and contacts. 

Tim's first impression of Clark is...difficult. Clark doesn't have the evolutionary triggers that most humans do. Doesn't get the same feeling of Strange from Tim or the aura, even if most people ignore those feelings. But Tim can feel the Offness of Clark, can see the spark of stardust in his eyes and the cold of space in his breath. Tim can now relate to the feeling humans get from him. 

Tim's first impression of Wonder Woman doesn't go much better, actually. Wonder Woman may not be entirely human but she does get the feeling of Oddness from Tim. She almost takes a step back at the first sight of Tim, eyes wide and shocked and it takes months before she acclimatizes to the aura she must get from Tim. Though she never fully relaxes or forgets the way other people do.

Barry Allen is the most normal reaction Tim gets, even as he munches down on snacks at the speed of light. Tim has to stop himself from following the speedster with his eyes. 

Xxxxx 

Kon, Bart and Cassie convince Tim to create a team with them, coined Young Justice. They gain 3 more members in the following months, as missions happen and villains fall. 

Secret gives Tim the feeling of Banshees from back home, drifting along, unaware of their own past. Misty and floaty and missing her feeling of Self.   
Anita is unique in a way Tim can't entirely explain in words. The way she fights and talks and cheers. The magic that envelops her like a shroud.   
Cissie is the most normal of the group. Human, even with her exceptional archery skills. She avoids Tim, whether consciously or not. But she takes to Cassie like a duck to water, even through her mental break and consequent retirement. 

Of course, the team draws the attention and scorn of the media, as people debate the existence of young heroes around the world, debate the existence of sidekicks themselves. Even old heroes coming out of the woodwork to discredit them, call them young and inexperienced, kicking up a media frenzy. Tim takes it in stride, rolling with the punches as he manipulates words, images and minds with ease. Turning humans against humans in a fight of mindsets. 

The fights happen, the enemies fall, the changes happen and the missions fly by as the years pass. They free a planet from a dictator using baseball, they fight a man trying to free Kali. They fight all kinds of strange people and things and even in the worst of fights, Tim doesn't need to fight hard. He never gets the feeling that he needs to reveal himself. He never feels himself or his team to be in mortal danger. 

The team ask for his name repetitively. His alias of Tim Drake. But Bruce won't allow it and the point of all this is that Tim can help Bruce. So he keeps his name, giving the alias of Alvin Draper, not any more real than Tim Drake, however the team dislikes this for a reason Tim cannot identify. 

However, it doesn't last long. Young Justice falls with a clatter as Anita, Cissie and Secret all retire to the civilian or semi-civilian population. And the original 4 are left to their own devices, left with their friendships and their experience as they fall back to their mentors. 

But Tim can't quite get rid of the feeling of companionship he has with them. Can't ignore the urge to send Kon memes or send Bart locations for new foods or answer Cassie's messages as she asks for advice. 

He's part of a team now, even if the team itself no longer exists.


	9. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Titans Tower and the Red Hood

Young Justice is replaced with the Titans team as the still fighting members transfer over one by one. Cassie, Bart, Kon and Tim becoming Titans by name as they fall into line with the ideals built on by Dick and the other original Titans. 

Cyborg, Raven and Beast boy welcome them with open arms but strained smiles. Starfire is missing after the complete failure of her relationship with Dick. Roy is also gone somewhere, mentally broken and dealing with things alone. 

Beast Boy does not like Tim, the animal instincts much more prominent with him than they are with any other human being. He avoids looking at Tim if he has any kind of choice. He's never in the same room as Tim alone. But Tim isn't sure he's doing it consciously. Instead, when asked, he says that Tim has a natural "Bat creepiness factor" and leaves it at that. 

The others seem to like him, even if they seem to find his personality jarring when put so starkly in opposition with Dick's. Pointed comments about being more like Batman than Robin. Confusion when he doesn't pun mid-battle. 

But slowly, ever so slowly, Tim becomes part of another team. Nearly dying together does that to you. And the "team bonding" activities do help as well, even if Tim finds them a bit extraneous.

Even through the fights and the missions. Through the personal issues and the team problems. Tim is there through it all. 

He spends every weekend at Titans tower. Which was his mistake. He should have known not to have any predictable pattern. 

Nothing tips Tim off as much as it makes him wary. The tower's security system is down. The team isn't responding, either taken down or taken hostage. And Tim is locked down to a single location as a man in a red helmet hunts him down. 

"Red Hood" as Bruce's files explained, is violent and volatile. A killer. And Tim can see it in the way he stalks forward, knife in hand as threats fall from his lips, hidden behind the bright red paint of the helmet. His footsteps are light, stealthy even though there is no advantage to it. 

"Tim" can't win this fight. There's no way. Even if the fight had been even and Tim hadn't already been injured, Red Hood has a considerable size, weight and strength advantage. So Tim can't win this fight. But he could, if he wanted to.   
Unfortunately, Tim can't allow that. Can't fight back fully. Can't expose himself. 

Years ago, Tim wouldn't have given a damn about exposing himself. Wouldn't have cared in the slightest. But now, Tim has a team. Has friends in Kon and Bart. Has family in Dick and Bruce and Alfred. And all these people are under the impression that Tim is human. Their companionship is reliant on the fact that "Tim" is actually Tim. But he isn't. Tim is an alias that he's used for years, yes. But the name will never be his. Tim can't allow it to be. 

So Tim doesn't fight. Doesn't use the shadows or the cold or the effect he has on people to his advantage. He doesn't do anything that Tim Drake wouldn't be able to. And in that, he accepts that he will lose this fight. But he knows that he'll survive. He stops the worst of the injuries, allowing some of the lighter cuts to take as he minimizes the damage. The blade made of metal other than Iron. If the blade were Iron, Tim wouldn't have allowed himself to stop. Would have fought and killed his opponent. 

But this opponent is strange. Swarmed in shadows and a bright, luminescent green. The combination doesn't work. Shouldn't work. Light drives the shadows away. But this man is cloaked in black with eyes of toxin.   
He fights like a man possessed, words of malice dripping like poison from his lips but his words make no sense. Absolutely none. Until the words click in Tim's mind, glittering in green water and with a name Tim hasn't seen in years. 

Jason Todd. 

The name stained in blood in Tim's mind, covered in scorches and bruises the same way the boy was in his last moments. But now, Tim can see the taint of green, swirling Jason's bright red with shadows of death and madness. 

Tim stops fighting, allowing Jason to knock him out and leave him in the broken remains of the hall of heroes, at the foot of Jason's own memorial with writing in blood stating "Jason Todd was here". 

In the aftermath, the team draws tighter around Tim, shielding him in his "humanity". The family is torn between rage at Jason's actions and reluctant joy in his resurrection. They think Jason came back wrong, that the Lazarus pits fuels his every violent action. But Tim watches Hood from the shadows, swaddled in darkness as he takes in the Jason that he knew. 

He still checks in on the children. He still makes sure the prostitutes are safe and healthy. He still helps the homeless shelters and beats drug dealers than deal to children. It's still Jason.   
But every time Jason sees Tim, the green rises. He is the trigger. And so, Tim starts avoiding Jason, subtly helping him by keeping Bruce off his trail. Advocating for giving Jason crime Alley. 

Of course, Jason is still after Joker, his killer. He doesn't know that Joker has already been punished. And Bruce doesn't help, as emotionally stunted and compromised as he is.   
But Jason finds out soon enough when he breaks Joker out of Arkham. Tim isn't present for the showdown between Joker, Jason and Bruce but he does know that it ends with Bruce and a gunshot wound to the shoulder, Joker dropped; beaten and bleeding at Arkham. 

Jason retreats to crime alley and stays there, keeping to his area and sticking to his own methods. But he avoids the Bats, all of them. Dick still tries to go back, to find something of the boy that died. But he refuses to look past the man that kills. 

Eventually, Tim steps in, helping Jason with cases, dropping cases and evidence in Jason's lap. Hacking his comms to give him Intel. And ever so slowly, Tim is able to wear away at the green eating at Jason's mind. Pulling at the shadows and separating them from the light. Drawing the Green away from Red. And slowly, Tim can see Jason improving. Can see Lazarus rage give way to Jason's own frustration. 

Because he may not be Tim Drake, will never allow himself to think of that name as his own, but he is Robin. 

And Robins are the light to Batman's darkness.


	10. Death follows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Janet Drake are on a plane when it happens. 
> 
> And across the world, Tim can hear the screech of banshees.

Tim isn’t sure what to think when his parents are captured. Held hostage by a madman demanding money. But Tim know that isn’t it. Can feel magic building somewhere across the world.   
Can feel when it snaps, to the sound of screeching banshees and the howling of wind. 

Mother is dead. 

He knows the moment it happens, listening intently to the screams and howling as his mother’s name is spoken without order for the first time in decades. She is free. She is happy. And it is likely that she had taken her captor along with her. 

Tim is there when Bruce explains what happened. Says that Janet must have been thirsty from the flames and drank what she had assumed to be water, with wind abandon. But Tim knows better. She would have seen the essence of malice. Would have smelled the poison. And she drank it anyway, to free herself from her torment.   
Had tricked her “Husband” into doing the same. Though, miraculously, Jack Drake had survived. Just barely. Currently stuck in a coma, but he had survived. And Tim cannot allow that. 

The funeral set up by the people around him is large, with flashing cameras and a preserved body, as if the flesh left behind contains, in any way, shape or form, his mother. The expect him to mourn. To cry and weep for the mother that he lost.   
But that isn’t how it is done. 

Tim cries for the cameras anyway, allowing tears to drip down his cheeks when the empty husk is brought out, still under glamour to look human. Only Tim can see the veins, the markings on his mother’s skin fading as life takes back what death had wrought.   
Tim allows himself to hold onto Dick and hide his face in his chest when people, ever so selfish and annoying, speak of his mother as if they had known her at all.   
They call her kind, gentle, a mother to a son and a wife to a husband. Softening her image in death. Making her into something she wasn’t. Mother would have killed them for it. 

Mother was ruthless. Cold. Calculated. 

But Tim does not interrupt the humans in their ceremonies. Winces when they pray that she is safe and happy. Turns instead to the banshees at the edge of the funeral procession to lead her home. Watches wisps of colour guide souls through the forest. 

And then. Once Dick releases him, Tim begins the mourning traditions of their people. 

Revenge. 

Tim does not waste time. Using his computer, he tracks down the man who killed his mother. The man who was ready to accept the money for their safe return and instead, had planned to kill them either way. Tim does not take kindly to the offence. 

He tracks the man down to a police station where he is being held for murder. Watching through security cameras as the dead swarm around him with fervour. Watches as a wraith attempts to claw his eyes out and the man flinches.   
So, he can see.   
That will make it much easier for Tim. 

After all, Tim is Robin now. And Robin does not kill.   
But that doesn’t mean that he cannot have his revenge. 

Drawing his mother’s favorite blade, made of cold wrought iron and silver, Tim twists it along his palm, imitating a cut a person would get from clenching their hand down on something sharp.   
Then, Tim smirks as he mutters, calling upon the shadows that surround this damned city. The city he has claimed as his. The blood absorbed by the blade as Tim’s flesh sizzles in contact with the metal. 

The shadows swirl around him, stronger than Tim has ever managed. Has ever needed to. Blocking out the light entirely as they circle, forming a dome around Tim as he continues to watch the man.   
“May your life be filled with shadows” Tim intones, eyes fixed to the man who took his mother from him and yet allowed the man who calls himself Tim’s father to stay alive. Feeling a single drop of blood slip down the blade, swept up in a sea of shadows.

The shadows around Tim let out a screech of laughter, of joy and purpose before they fly off in the direction Tim has aimed them.   
And not a moment later, the man on screen starts to scream uncomprehendingly as his eyes widen, reflecting the multitude of shadows latching onto his limbs and attaching to him with a purpose.   
The man cannot fight them. 

And after a moment to relish at the sight of a man so terrified, Tim switches off the computer in front of him, meeting the eyes of his waking “father” as shadows still swirl around Tim in joy. 

“Hello Jack” Tim says coldly, allowing his image to slip through into Jack’s subconscious. The long, sharp canines and too many teeth. The uncanny resemblance to humans, but only in passing. The way his hair moves like the shadows surrounding him. His eyes cold as ice.   
“Now I quite enjoy being a single child. And I would have preferred to be an orphan. But here we are. You survived, somehow” Tim says, walking, stalking forward slightly as Jack reaches for the call button on his bed. Tim puts a quick stop to that, not that the nurses would have seen Tim as a threat to anyone.  
“Oh no, Jack. You survived. But you will wish you hadn’t” Tim says finally as his freezing skin makes contact with Jack’s warm wrist, draining the warmth from his skin in seconds as Jack’s face goes slack. 

“Now. I don’t kill anymore. So I won’t kill you. But. Tradition states that I must have retribution for my mother’s death and my own capture. 

I wonder how you will feel. Held captive in your own mind” 

When Jack’s face is completely slack, eyes unresponsive to anything Tim does, he smiles. Looking back at the camera behind him, he knows it will simply look like a son holding their father in grief, in shock. 

“Help! Help!” Tim screams out once he has made sure that everything is correct. And moments later, doctors swarm into the room, forcing Tim out of the room with white coats and words that mean nothing to them.   
Nurses usher him out into the waiting room into Alfred’s waiting, too clear eyes. Too understanding. But Tim doesn’t care. Alfred is safe.   
Jack Drake is declared comatose not minutes later. With no chance of recovery. 

And Tim? Tim can’t hide his smile.


	11. Betrayal and death walk side by side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to be going wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character death. Kon and Bart. Only temporary.   
> Fake/presumed death. Steph and Bruce. Also only temporary.

After the death of his mother and the unfortunate diagnosis of his “father”, Tim is forced to move in with Dick and Bruce, as Alfred forces Bruce to admit that Tim is now basically an orphan. And is in need of a home.   
Dick takes to Tim’s new living arrangements happily, helping Tim move all of his important belongings to his new room. Tim doesn’t even allow him to touch some of the more volatile objects. 

From there, things seem to settle into an easy medium for Tim. He still goes to school, where he is forced to question, every day, the intelligence of the human population. He goes to the Titans every weekend, spending time with Kon and Bart as the Titans sweep him up in the wave of their activities. He spends time with Dick and Bruce and Alfred. 

Bruce becomes less violent and volatile as Jason draws closer to the family, holding Tim when he is shaking from fear gas and attempting to whisk away the thoughts of silver and iron cuffs. Dick takes Tim train surfing, attempting to teach Tim to have fun. Jason draws ever nearer to the family as the green flows from him with time, the light beginning to shine the way it did before Jason was killed.   
And Alfred. Well. Alfred has always known too much. Seen too much. 

He doesn’t flinch when Tim’s smile turns too large. He doesn’t falter when Tim’s eyes linger too long on a dead body. Doesn’t comment when Tim comes home, grinning and healed after a fight.   
They don’t speak of it.   
But Tim knows. 

Either way. None of it matters when Spoiler appears with a brick to Tim’s face. Tim can respect that. Has to hide his smile when she lands a hit to his cheek that manages to do some damage.   
They get along well. Spoiler and Robin.   
Until they don’t.

Spoiler “dies” at the hands of Black mask, attempting to prove her worth as a lone vigilante.   
But, Tim does not hear the screams of her death. Does not hear the screams of her name echo through reality.   
The banshees do not lie.   
Spoiler is not dead. 

To that, Tim takes great offence. Faking her death? Would have been fine with Tim if it had happened any other time. But no. Instead, Spoiler uses her presumed death to torment Tim.   
Following him around in a torn costume like a ghost. A clear attempt to mentally hurt and torment him. 

On the surface, Tim plays along. Plays the part of the grieving friend that’s somehow losing his mind to grief.   
On the inside, Tim can’t help the snarl that he lets out when he sees the purple Spoiler costume flicker past him Once Again. 

If Stephanie wants to play, then Tim can play. 

He plays along with Batman’s test. He “stands strong in the face of his grief”. The same grief that had broken Batman but he was expected to endure. He fights every fight, says every line and does not show Bruce nor Stephanie that he knows. 

And when it comes to a head, Tim takes advantage of their humanity. 

Tim fakes tears of grief, betrayal and anger, collapsing in on himself and scampering back when she reaches out, stopping the wave of grief as it crests in his chest. She looks broken as Tim turns and leaves the cave, fake tears still dripping down his now-snarling cheeks. 

Xxxxx

It isn’t a month later that Tim gets the call.   
Clark’s voice breaks over the phone as he delivers the devastating news. 

Kon-El is dead.   
Conner. Kon. Clone boy. He’s dead

Died in the heart of battle with Superboy Prime.   
Kon had saved the world. And paid for it with his life. 

It’s the first time Tim actually feels grief flow through his frame, chilling his blood and rendering his legs unusable as he collapses.   
Dick is forced to catch him as Tim’s ears ring with the words “I’m sorry” layered over with screams of banshees. 

Kon is dead. Actually dead. And this time, it isn’t like Mother, who had chosen death rather than remaining captured. No. Kon had died in pain. Alone. 

It breaks Tim in a way that he hadn’t expected. Maybe he’s been spending too much time with the humans.   
But when Tim attempts to draw Kon’s spirit forward, the remains of his spark. And fails. Tim loses it. 

Actual tears flow down his cheeks, stinging the veins in his face as his glamour slips. For once not faked, Tim’s grief shakes the forests of home as he screams, howling Kon’s name along with the banshees. 

And it still isn’t enough. 

Xxxxx

A week later, when Tim gets another call from a distraught, grieving Wally. 

And Tim breaks again, his grief quiet in the same way of a tsunami pulling back water before the wave hits. 

Xxxxx 

Bruce’s “death”, in comparison, is easier to deal with. 

He hears the banshees whisper as something upsets the balance of life and death. Something unnatural upsetting the natural order of things.   
So when Superman brings back Bruce’s “body”, Tim is ready for it. 

But he already knows. Bruce isn’t dead. 

Bruce isn’t dead. Tim knows this to be fact. Has heard the whispers of the banshees and the discomfort of a being trapped between 2 states of existence.   
Long ago, some teacher had told Tim that there are 3 states of being “Those who are alive, those who are dead and those who are out at sea”. But Tim is walking manifestation of that being incorrect. He walks the like of life and death every second. 

Hears the banshees keen in frustration of another being walking the line between existence and nonexistence. 

But Tim cannot act now. Cannot expose himself like that. So instead, Tim starts hunting for clues. Starting with a portrait in the manor.  
The portrait Is old, faded with time and stained. But no manner of dust or varnish can cover the face Tim has come to think of as family.   
Bruce Wayne’s face.   
Batman. 

Tim can save him. Tim might not have been able to save Kon or Bart but Tim can save Bruce. 

In the revelation, the state of pure euphoria, he doesn’t notice the shadows swarming him, reacting to his joy with a frenzy that tears apart the room. All but the portrait. Leaving the room in tatters, stained in black shadows that refuse to leave. But Tim doesn’t care. 

He can save Bruce. 

Xxxxxx

Dick doesn’t believe him. 

Tim’s eyes are wide as Dick continues to speak, showing Tim the Demon Brat in a new Robin uniform. A complete. New. Robin uniform. A new Robin uniform that would have taken weeks, if not months to make.   
Dick had replaced him.   
Had already been thinking about it a long time ago. 

Damian standing in Tim’s uniform. In Tim’s Name, is what snaps it. 

Tim doesn’t hesitate to lunge at the boy. Because he isn’t Robin. Tim is Robin. Tim has been Robin for years now. 

And yet. 

Dick stops him, starts lecturing Tim that it’s time to move on. Like Dick hadn’t fought Bruce tooth and nail when he was fired. Like he hadn’t resented Jason for taking the Robin name. Like Dick hadn’t just ripped the only name Tim had ever allowed himself from his still-beating heart and gave it one of the people who had tried to kill Tim.   
No. 

Tim can feel the rage seeping into his skin, shadows swirling around him, mimicking his rage, throwing both of them into a frenzy.   
Kill him, they whisper. Kill him for his transgressions, they advise, hovering by Tim’s ear as Dick continues to babble on.   
And Tim… Tim can’t think of any reason not to. Can’t give himself a reason not to rip Damian’s throat out with his fingers. 

Because Robin doesn’t kill. But. Tim isn’t Robin anymore. 

Tim takes an initial step forward, to Damian’s surprise but Damian just continues gloating. Oblivious to the shadows growing in the corners and the cold seeping into the cave. 

But No. Tim can’t kill. 

Not because he’s Robin. Because he isn’t Robin anymore.   
No.   
He can’t kill.   
Because Kon would be disappointed. So would Bart. 

Tim’s next breath comes easier, flowing down his airpipe fluidly as Tim consciously relaxes his fists. But he won’t listen to this anymore. 

Tim is no longer Robin. And he was never Tim Drake to begin with. All he is now, is dangerous, sharp shadows and icy wind.   
So he leaves. Ignoring Dick’s begging for him to stay, Tim takes Redbird and leaves. 

Cassie catches up with him just long enough for him to learn that she doesn’t believe him either and he once again has to stop himself from using something. Anything. Against her.   
Because now, he’s weak. He’s vulnerable.   
But he isn’t. Not really. 

He has all of their names. The little collection of sounds that make up who they are. And Tim knows how to use them. Could make Cassie abandon and destroy everything she stands for.   
But he won’t.   
Not now. 

Kon and Bart are dead. Bruce is stuck in the timestream.   
Tim can’t kill to avenge them. Not when their killers are not in his reach.   
No. Instead, Tim can keep Bruce alive. Can bring him back. 

Then.   
Then he can deal with the traitors.   
But only then.


	12. Without a name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Robin timelines. Tim finally meets the assassin trio.

Tim takes Jason’s old suit. The Red Robin suit he wore once.   
Red and black. The colour of blood and the colour of shadows. Tim thinks it fits. 

He takes off not long after Dick’s confrontation on the bridge, jetting off around the world to find traces of Bruce. Because Bruce is alive, no matter what anyone else says. 

Paris.   
Geneva.   
Argentina. 

He fights some crime, steals some artifacts. Alone, in a world that seems to be moving on from his death, even if he is alive.   
He knows what Jason felt like now, coming back to see another child wearing a mantle you had claimed as yours. But Jason had been dead. Actually dead.   
Dick didn’t even give Tim that courtesy. 

No. Instead, Dick ripped the only name Tim has ever allowed himself to have, away from him. Stole it. 

You never steal from a fae. It’s one of the earliest lessons men learned when they just encountered them. Offending a fae is a great way to die. Slowly and messily. And that’s if you die at all.   
Sometimes, surviving is worse. 

But Tim doesn’t have time to extract his revenge from Dick. From the boy Tim had attached himself to from the earliest days at the circus. From the man Tim had aimed to call his brother.   
No.   
Tim has to find Bruce. He has to. 

Kon is dead. Bart is dead. Steph betrayed him. Cassie thinks he’s insane.   
Bruce is the only person Tim has left. 

So he travels. He runs and flies and floats wherever he feels a whim, taking off at a moment’s notice. Fleeing from one spot of remembrance to the next.   
Along the way, he finds artifacts. He collects proof. In the form of pictures and documents and scans. Irrefutable proof that Batman is out there. 

That is, until one night. 

Tim feels a shadow slither down his spine enticingly and he Knows. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t run, even when the room around him goes up in a burst of flames and heat.   
It doesn’t bother him. 

But the affront does. 

Immediately spotting the glint of a rifle, Tim shoots his grapple directly into the sniper’s nose. It hooks onto the ledge immediately after and then the fight starts.   
The sniper clutches at his nose, falling backwards and rendering his long range sniper gun unusable in such close quarters.   
The second man is good, fighting with a style Tim recognizes from his fights with assassins from the League. He fights well. A strong opponent. Tim can’t help the smile on his lips at that thought.   
The girl seems…almost untrained. Reckless.   
It makes for an easy fight. 

Tim is busy using the girl’s semi-automatics to shoot at her teammates when the good fighter stalls, listening to something before he orders them to retreat.   
It’s a smart decision on their part. 

After that, Tim flees. Again and again and again.   
And no matter where he goes, the three assassins follow. 

At first, Tim had thought that they were planning to kill him. But one of them intervened on his behalf when he was about to be arrested. Not that Tim would have allowed himself to be caught anyway.   
A few well placed shadows and some gentle words would have discouraged the authorities from asking any further questions.   
But it does serve Tim’s goal in verifying the allegiance of the assassins. 

They work for Ra’s al Ghul. They are loyal to him. But Tim is, at the moment, their leader. They will follow him.   
It reminds Tim of Young Justice, in a way. The children having loyalties to their mentors (mostly) that come first. 

For that reason, Tim doesn’t stop them from killing. Simply because he has made the decision not to kill his enemies (most of the time) doesn’t mean that he’ll expect them to do the same.   
It seems to throw them all for a loop, Tim smiling at them and saying “I don’t care. Just don’t kill anyone important” with clear eyes and a sinister smile. 

None of the trio react strangely to Tim, meaning that none of them seem to feel the sickly cold aura that he now radiates constantly. Because he doesn’t need to be bright anymore. Batman has a Robin and it isn’t him. And Bruce doesn’t need a Robin, right now.   
He needs someone to drag him back. No matter what they have to do. 

So Tim lets go of the veneer of light. Lets the shadows engulf him whole as cold seeps into his very being.   
It becomes an asset in Iraq, where the desert is boiling hot and the sun is unrepentant. The assassins cling to him in a competition for his cold.   
They don’t question why he feels like an ice block. 

When they finally reach the cave, the starting point for it all, Tim enters the cave alone. The cave is cold, protected from the heat of the sun as it beats down on the dunes. But Tim can feel something else.   
Shadows that have nothing to do with the lack of light. An unnatural wind.   
And it all originated from here.   
The carving of a Bat-symbol. 

This is where it all started. 

Tim’s smile is wide when he exits the cave, too many teeth showing too sharply for his team not to notice. But none of them question.   
Instead, Z asks Tim “How do you feel, Tim Drake?” with humor, as if he knows that that isn’t his name. And it never will be.   
As an answer, Tim widens his smile even more, teeth sharpening further as he allows himself to slip. None of them falter. 

“He smiles. Even if it is creepy” Pru voices with an almost unnoticeable shudder, glancing down at Tim’s teeth with a small frown before scoffing. 

None of then see it coming. None of them, but Tim. 

The sword pierces Tim’s chest in an instant from where he’d appeared in front of Z in a flash of swirling shadows.   
The sword is steel. It stings as it enters Tim’s ribs but it doesn’t burn the way Iron does. Not nearly as much as silver does.   
It barely misses Tim’s lungs as Tim smiles even wider, teeth sharpening further as the would-be assassin jolts back. 

“Now that wasn’t nice. We were holding a nice conversation here” Tim croons as he pulls the sword out by the hilt, the wound in his chest healing over almost instantly as the assassin falls backward. Attempting to scramble backwards.   
“Hmmmm. Now let’s see here. Usually, an attempt on my life would be negligent. I don’t care. But you weren’t aiming for me, now were you?” Tim asks sweetly, spinning the point of the sword on his fingertip.   
“No. You were aiming for my team. And that just won’t do” Tim concludes as he steps back, holding the sword out to Z by the point, offering him the handle with a flourish and a bloodthirsty smile. 

“He was attempting to kill you. I would like to extend you the courtesy to do the same” is how Tim explains himself as the team give him confused looks. 

Owens is the one to step forward, stepping on the wrist of the scrambling assassin, and Tim can’t help but relish in the snap of bone under Owen’s boot. Pru steps forward shortly after, standing at the assassin’s head and glaring down at him with malice. It’s only then that Z takes the sword from Tim’s hand.   
He makes it quick.   
Tim would not have. 

“Thank you” Pru voices quietly a moment later, looking up at Tim from where she’d been staring at the wound in the red hourglass, blood slowly seeping outward.   
“Yes, I do believe that we owe you a thanks, Timothy Drake” Z voices next.   
Owens just gives Tim a smile from where he’s watching Z as if he’ll disappear at any moment. 

“We never told the master” Z voices next, lifting his head to glance at Tim’s eyes, glowing a light azure, even in the light of the desert. “We never told him our suspicions. In the beginning, it was because we were unsure. But then, even when we were sure, we refrained. Pru told us stories of Selkies trapped and dying, slowly withering away as they were held captive. We decided that we did not want to see you do the same” he explains quietly, still keeping eye contact with Tim, even when shadows swirl around them in agitation. 

“Thank you” Tim voices hesitantly as he steps back, allowing the veneer of humanity to slip back into place as he hears the far-off sounds of Ra’s speaking over his comm. It had fallen to the ground when Tim intercepted the attack and stayed there when the assassins took their revenge.   
Ra’s sounds impatient. 

“We may hold loyalty to The demon’s head. But we have begun to think of you as an ally” Z concludes before Tim can pick up the comm to answer. “You can leave now. We can tell the master that you have found what you were searching for and left”   
Meeting his eye, Tim can see that he’s sincere.   
They’re friends. Tim’s friends.   
And maybe, with a bit of work, he can free them from the grip of Ra’s al Ghul.


	13. Death of killers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council of spiders should have known better....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Lethal Tim Drake/ Tim Drake kills

They all enter the compound together, Tim in the front with the others at his back. 

Tim relishes at the side-glances, the unconscious shivers and the flinches he receives as he passes. Even the ninja seem to realize that there’s something different. Something wrong.   
The thin veneer of humanity is still in place. Tim’s teeth human, dull and short as he smiles. His eyes blue and dull and only mildly reflective.   
But nobody can ignore the feeling of Wrongness that radiates from his very being. 

Ra’s tries to ignore the feeling, Tim can see it. Can see Ra’s stifle a flinch when Tim turns his gaze directly on him and the way that he and Tim are never alone in a room, as if that provides any form of protection to him.   
Tim doesn’t disabuse him of the notion, simply smiling at him as Ra’s makes thinly veiled threats and attempts to convince Tim to join him. 

But that isn’t why Tim is here. No. Tim is here to free his friends.   
Tim is here to make sure Ra’s never attempts to control Tim again.   
He’s just escaped from Jack’s thumb. He refuses to be placed under another. 

“What are you doing? You’re freaking out the ninjas” Pru voices with a snort as she stomps into Tim’s room, followed by Z and Owens as the door swings shut behind them.   
“Me? I’m not doing anything” Tim voices innocently, fooling the camera in the corner but they can see the glint in his eyes like a spark of flame on a winter’s night. They know.   
“Sure, Reddy. Just keep it to yourself at the briefing tomorrow, will you? We need everyone focused so we don’t die” Pru says back as she drops down onto Tim’s couch, her feet splaying out as she drops. 

“What Pru means to say, is that we require the league to be operational, not fearful. Especially if we are taking on the Council of Spiders” Z intervenes, not flinching when Tim turns his gaze his way.   
“Alright. I won’t freak out the lesser beings” Tim jokes, ducking when Owens chucks a pillow at his head. 

The next day, at the briefing, everyone keeps glancing at him warily. Some, for the feeling they get from him. Others in suspicion of his allegiance.   
The white ghost explains the plan with help from Pru and Z. 

Corner each member of the Council and overwhelm them. 

A simple plan. One that Tim doesn’t expect to work. And he doesn’t think Ra’s expects it to either. No, Ra’s expects them to annihilate the forces entirely and then storm the compound.   
That’s what he’s preparing for. 

Tim warns his team of this immediately, ensuring at the discussion that all of them are on Tim’s team. They don’t believe him at first. Not until the attack day comes and they face off against Wolf. A man with poisoned blades extending from his hands.   
All of the accompanying ninjas fall. Either to the blades, the poison or to the drop when they switch buildings.   
All of them die. 

Then, Tim hears the White Ghost announce that all the other teams have failed as well. All of them dead at the hands of the council. That’s when it starts to sink in for his team that Ra’s played them. Was planning to sacrifice them.   
They all give Tim a nod of thanks before they board the plane Tim had set up before. Ready to go back to the compound at a moment’s notice. 

When they arrive, it is absolute pandemonium. Ra’s is fighting some woman who is unarmed. Or at least was fighting her until she clasps a hand around Ra’s wrist.   
The Ra’s double falls to the ground, mouth foaming and gagging as poison sinks into his skin.   
Tim wonders how long the woman will take until she realizes that Ra’s eyes aren’t blue. 

In the meantime, Tim takes advantage of her arrogance.   
“Mine” Tim says to his team as his eyes brighten in response. He hasn’t had a good fight in so long. The shadows respond happily, swirling around the room and blocking cameras from view as Tim strikes. 

He takes the big one first. Goliath. Big and strong but useless in the long run. Tim just laughs as his grip on the creature’s wrist drains the warmth of life from his skin.   
Wolf makes an attempt to cut at Tim with his poisoned blades and falters when the blades fail to pierce Tim’s skin, the poison harmlessly dripping from Tim’s skin before it freezes.   
Sac turns to run as his spiders swarm toward Tim, mindless in their haste to obey their master. Tim almost feels sympathy for them as a wave of ice freezes all of them solid, spreading all the way back to Sac as he ices over like a victim of Dr Freeze.   
Wolf finally recovers from his shock and tries to cut Tim’s head off before Tim grasps the blades in his hands, shattering them to shards before he laughs again at the man crumpling to his feet in front of him. 

Robin may not kill. But Tim isn’t Robin anymore. 

Funnel tries to run before Tim can get to her. But Tim knows poisons. Knows them well. Knows how to use them to his advantage. She doesn’t last long when the liquids freeze in her bags, breaking the bottles and defrosting as they all leak over her body.   
Tangle lunges for his head, thinking he’s be distracted from him by Funnel but Tim doesn’t falter, grabbing onto the heated garrotte with both hands and relishing in the burn.   
When Wanderer tries to sneak up on him, Tim throws Tangle directly into her, watching as the man seizes and collapses at her feet. 

“Well. You are a dangerous one” Wanderer croons as she moves forward, and Tim doesn’t evade. Doesn’t bother. She cannot harm him.   
As is shown a second later when her hand makes contact with his face and instead of collapsing, Tim uses that opportunity to break her wrist.   
“Never approach a target you don’t know the full capabilities of” is all Tim says before the poison in her veins revolts, hundreds of spider bites reappearing on her skin as she collapses in agony. The same way she should have died as a child. 

“Thank you for your participation” Tim says finally, a smile on his lips as he steps backward. 

“You” Pru starts hesitantly before taking a breath and finishing “Are fucking terrifying”. “Pru is correct. That was barely a fight” Z agrees as Owens gives Tim a wide- eyed look before he smiles and asks “What now, boss?”.   
Smiling at the honorific, the same nickname Owens used the second time they met, Tim tilts his head. Depending on their answer to the next question, the outcome will differ.   
“Are you guys staying with the league?” Tim asks, taking careful care not to change his tone in any way, not wanting to manipulate them. 

The three assassins behind him exchange glances before Z answers “No. It seems that we have outlived our days in the league. Though we have nowhere else to go…” he trails off suggestively and Tim smiles.   
“You are my team. I have an apartment nearby you can crash at during the fallout. And then, well. I have a network of apartments and safehouses that are much nicer than some of the places we stayed” Tim answers, smiling at their Whoops of joy before he turns and heads to the main control room.   
“You might want to run quickly though” Tim advises, laughing when all of them give him wide-eyed looks and book it out of the cave system. They know those words rarely mean anything good. 

They’re proven right when the base goes up in smoke a moment later, along with every other base the league of assassins had ever thought was safe. Starting with the lazarus pits and the servers and spreading outward in a violent wave of destruction.   
With alarms, of course. Tim doesn’t want or need to kill everyone in those bases. 

He isn’t Robin anymore. And he’s never been Tim Drake. But he’s never liked unneeded bloodshed. It’s wasteful.


	14. Undoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon and Bart are back and they're glad to see their bird

Kon is the first to approach him, finding Tim somewhere in Paris while he tracks down some stuff of Lex Luthor’s. 

He looks good, for someone who was dead only a week ago. But Tim can see the remains of darkness flickering over his heart, dragging his body down along with his mind. It’s subtle. Kon’s smile a bit dimmer. The way Kon doesn’t hesitate to hug Tim and shudders when his body makes contact.   
Tim can tell that Kon’s death will haunt him forever. Even if it has, miraculously, been undone. 

Quietly, in a basement owned by Lex Luthor but plundered by himself, Tim explains the last few months to Kon as Kon gives him wide eyes and a small smile.   
Oh, how Tim has missed him.   
He knows Bart is back too, off in the world somewhere. It doesn’t take Kon long to call him in as well. 

They sit in a dusty lab, filled with broken, incomplete and trashed cloning equipment as Tim stutters out the thought process that he had right when all of this started.   
“Before I go on, I’m so so so sorry. I…wasn’t thinking straight” Tim confides as his eyes drift to the main neonatal chamber.   
Kon lays a hand on Tim’s shoulder and squeezes gently as Bart leans his head down onto Tim’s shoulder. Their way of saying “We don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. But we forgive you” and it makes Tim slightly sick. 

“I was planning on cloning you. I had your DNA. And I had some samples. I grabbed some equipment from Luthor and did a lot of reading. I. I was planning on cloning you” Tim admits quietly. And it’s true. He had been planning to clone them, shortly after Bart’s death.  
He’d gone through all the trouble of robbing Lex and researching and even collecting DNA samples. But when he’s tried to summon up the spirits, the spark that make Kon, Kon and Bart, Bart, he hadn’t been able to.   
Without the spark, they never would have been Kon or Bart. Not truly. 

It had caused many breakdowns for Tim as he tried and tried and tried to bring his friends back, only to fail time and time again. It had almost broken him. At least until Bruce had died.   
At least then he had a purpose. 

Tim can feel Kon and Bart exchange glances over his head from where Tim had dropped his head in his hands. Can almost imagine the disgust and scorn on their faces.   
Because Tim knows that Kon wouldn’t have wanted that. Nor would Bart.   
Kon had told Tim in-length how messed up a clone is simply by process. Having to somehow distinguish yourself from your DNA donor and Tim knows that he still struggles with that. Kon isn’t Superman, sometimes, that’s a good thing. But sometimes, Kon looks at Superman and thinks “That’s what I should have been”. It messes him up and Tim knows that. 

But Tim hadn’t thought about that. Because the clone wouldn’t have just been a clone of Kon. It would have been Kon. Tim would have brought him back. It would have been him. And the same goes with Bart, though Tim had struggled with the concept of the speedforce.   
It would have been his friends.   
But his friends don’t know that. 

Neither Kon, nor Bart know that Tim can bring forth the spark that makes them themselves, let alone just place it into a new body like a new organ.   
Tim can do that. He can. But they don’t know that.   
And they never will. 

Their friendship is dependant on the fact that Tim is human. Robin, or at least used to be. That Tim is Tim. But Tim isn’t Tim. Tim Drake has never existed and he never will.   
Does that mean that they won’t be his friends if he isn’t Tim Drake?   
Tim just can’t risk it. Can’t risk some of the best things that have happened to him since he was unwillingly dragged into this plane of existence. 

So he doesn’t.   
He doesn’t correct the thought that their clones “wouldn’t have been them”, even if it is untrue.   
He doesn’t tell them that he was tired and sick and angry and grieving for them in a way that only makes sense to him and his people.   
He doesn’t risk it. 

“That’s a bit messed up, Tim. I mean, you know how being a clone messed me up for a long time. And it. It kind of feels like you were trying to replace us. But. I think I get it” Kon admits slowly, speaking quietly in the dark.   
“If Cassie had faked her death to torment me, and then you and Bart had died. I. Probably would have torn the world apart trying to bring you back too” Kon admits, looking at the destroyed neonatal chamber with an expression of sombreness.   
By his side, Bart speeds out of Tim’s hold to stop right in front of Tim with a small smile. “I raced into the timestream to bring Kon back. I would have destroyed timelines to save one of my best friends. Let alone 2” Bart admits with absolutely no shame. 

It’s then that Tim breaks, breath choking in his lungs.   
Because they’re giving Tim everything that they are. Their friendship, their trust, their help and their honesty. 

And Tim can give them nothing in return. 

Not even his name.


	15. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon and Bart are in danger. Tim refuses to let them die again.

Tim isn’t Robin anymore. He’s Red Robin now, with black and red to match the blood and shadows that cling to his skin. 

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still have his weaknesses. 

Before, when Tim was still Robin, he couldn’t kill and that was a weakness. He couldn’t use his powers and that limited him.   
He couldn’t protect the people that he loved because of that.   
Kon, Bart, Bruce. Even Jason.   
All of them dead or missing because Tim couldn’t deal with the thought of being rejected. 

Not this time.   
No.   
This time, his friends wouldn’t suffer. 

It’s that thought that spurs Tim to action as Harm’s blade reaches towards Kon in a devastating arc. He’d gone missing after their last fight with him in Young Justice. If you can even call it a fight.   
Tim hadn’t thought he was coming back.   
He should have known better. 

Death doesn’t always stick. Secret is a great example of that. And now her murderous brother is back too.   
But Tim won’t allow him to hurt his friends.   
He won’t. 

And with that last thought, Tim reaches past Kon’s head to grab onto Harm’s blade, gripping steel that sings in his grip. Metal crunches under Tim’s fingers, bending and frosting over for moments before Harm’s blade shatters in Tim’s grip.   
“You don’t get to hurt them” Tim says coldly, the human façade crumbling at the thought of the grief Tim went through, not once, but twice, knowing his friends were dead.   
The cold, sinking feeling in his chest, the ache that seemed to radiate from his heart, the way his lungs rebelled and his breath hitched.   
He couldn’t go through that again. 

Stepping forward, Tim allows the crumbling illusion to flicker.   
Inhumanly sharp teeth gleaning in the light as Tim towers over the person who dared to try and harm his friends, eyes icing over like death, shimmers of shadows flickering around his skin.  
Kon’s hand on his shoulder stops Tim from taking another step. 

“Red, calm down, OK?” Kon says. He sounds confused and wary, as he should be but he’s taking time to reassure Tim and stop him from killing Harm.   
The shards of metal in Tim’s hand draw his attention.   
“You can’t kill him. We don’t kill. You. You don’t kill” Bart says from behind Tim, hand raising to clutch onto Tim’s cape. 

But Tim isn’t Robin anymore.   
That rule no longer applies. 

Tim almost ignores them completely, set on killing Harm and letting the banshees have their call before Harm can become a threat to his friends once again.   
Almost.   
But no matter how hard he tries, Tim can’t ignore the tears shining in Bart’s eyes or the way Kon’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

Tim steps back with a glare “If you value your existence at all, you will forget this ever happened. And if you ever threaten my friends again, I will make you wish I had taken that blade to your heart, right here. Do you understand?” Tim asks, eyes locked with Harm’s as they swirl with shadows and darkness and a promise of death.   
Harm nods and turns to run. Tim lets him go because Bart is still clinging to him, Kon’s hand clutching his shoulder like a lifeline. 

“Tim. Tim, whatever you’re possessed by, we’ll figure it out, I promise” Kon begs, still clutching inhumanly hard at Tim’s shoulder.   
“Yeah, we promise. But you have to tell us what or who it is. Please, Tim” Bart basically begs as he faces Tim with wide, watery eyes. 

Tim wishes he could tell them that he’s possessed. He wishes that they could exorcise him or remove whatever they think is wrong. Wishes that they could just forget this happened at all.   
Of course, Tim could make them forget. Could rip the memories from their skulls and they’d never be the wiser.   
But he can’t. 

“I’m not possessed” Tim’s voice says, words dragged out of his unwilling throat like sandpaper, scraping and hurting. But Tim won’t lie, not to them.   
“Tim. My man. You just grabbed a sword and broke it” Kon says incredulously from behind him and Tim almost lets out a startled laugh.   
“Yeah dude. Unless you have something to tell us…”Bart trails off jokingly but Tim sighs. 

“I’m not human, you know” Tim admits softly, causing his friends to jerk in shock.   
“Rob. Tim. Red. Did you hit your head?” Kon asks loudly, turning Tim’s face to check his pupils but that’s when Tim allows his façade to drop completely.   
Leaving his skin bare for the first time since…forever ago. 

Teeth elongated and sharp, too many to fit into the vaguely human shaped mouth. Eyes that glimmer with ice blue and swirl with shadows. Fingers tipped with small claws. Skin that flickers with vestiges of the shadows that cling to his form.   
Kon and Bart jerk back, letting go of Tim entirely and Tim has to stop the whine he makes in his throat. 

“I’m not human. I never was. I wasn’t even born human or born here, for that matter.   
I was born somewhere else. I was born like this. Just like my mother. And the rest of us.   
But. Names have power and that’s why you don’t give them away. Mother did. And then she was trapped. I went along for the ride and ended up here, playing human.   
But I’m not.   
And I never will be.   
Not that I regret that. I don’t wish to be human. I’m not. I am what I am and I’m quite happy with it” Tim confesses quietly, pulling some of the humanness back into himself with a breath. 

There’s silence for a second as they work to process the information Tim has given them. It doesn’t take long. Bart is a speedster, after all.   
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Bart asks with the voice of a child, hurt in his tone as tears well up in his eyes again.   
“You were friends with Robin. And then you were friends with Tim Drake. You don’t even know me” Tim says in answer, refusing to meet their eyes. 

“Do you still listen to Enya?” Kon asks out of the blue and Tim’s head jolts up to look at him. Kon is completely serious. “Do you still have weird sleeping patterns and only drink grape zesti? Do you still pick out all of the green gummy bears because you say they taste like vomit?”   
Each question feels like it punches Tim in the chest.   
“Yeah” Tim breathes out softly and that’s when Kon smiles.   
“Then, dude. Does it really matter if Tim isn’t really your name?” Bart asks, suddenly disappearing and reappearing next to Tim with at least 10 books. 

“So. I go to the library, right? Thinking that I’d find some help about creatures that have significance with names. Turns out that’s a fairly common factor in a lot of cultures and creatures and beliefs. So, you’re going to have to help me narrow it down” Bart says, gesturing to Tim with a book titled “Creatures and myths from around the world”. 

The teary smile that flits over Tim’s lips feels like relief.


	16. Questions and great friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punishment begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I'm posting a new story today called "Green rings and red things", to make up for the loss of Bat in a Flash. Tim as a green Lantern. Please check it out if you're interested.

“So you knew Batman didn’t die because you couldn’t hear the wailing? Like you could tell Spoiler wasn’t dead the same way?” Kon asks as the three of them head towards the watchtower zeta entrance.   
“Yeah. Basically” Tim says, not quite sure how to explain the feeling he gets when someone important to him dies.   
Bart nods from next to him and blurs slightly as he makes another note. 

“The lying thing? That true?” Bart asks, still absorbed by it all as they approach the teleportation station.   
Tim grimaces.   
“No. Yes. Kind of. So that’s a bit more nuanced. I’m not incapable of lying, obviously. But it’s seen as rude. You don’t lie to people. That’s just not something that’s done. But it is possible… Think of it like cheating at a game, right? Possible, but rude. And it implies that you couldn’t win without cheating. It’s just. We try not to do that” Tim answers stiltedly. 

Bart hums in what Tim hopes is understanding and then vanishes, hiding his notebook and notes before they can actually reach the entrance, where the cameras could pick them up.   
Tim smiles. He didn’t really think his friends would be this accepting to all of this. Even though he now realises that his reaction, his instinct that they would just throw him out, was exaggerated.   
Still, they’re being very respectful, asking questions and backing off when Tim looks more uncomfortable then they feel comfortable with. Bart had even backed off completely when Tim flinched at the mention of iron. 

The watchtower is, luckily, not made from iron.   
The cold and dark of space, however, is slightly uncomfortable to Tim. He’s used to cold and dark and shadows but the watchtower isn’t cold and dark. The cold is more an absence than an actual premise of something being cold. And the dark is also the complete lack of something rather than shadows.   
It makes a shiver run down Tim’s spine every time. 

He won’t be here for long though, just to see Bruce.   
The league had been shocked when Tim had sent an info packet to every hero and team on the planet, detailing his proof of Bruce being stuck in time.   
At least they promptly got to work after. 

Now that Batman had been retrieved, however, Tim is here to greet him. To see the man who was a better father than anyone else, even if he had made some mistakes. But then, when Tim’s only other example of a father figure is Jack Drake, the mistakes don’t seem all that glaring. 

Bruce is sleeping when Tim enters his room with the whispers of shadows. Bart and Kon waiting in the hall for Tim to finish up his “Welcome back” greeting.   
Bruce face is swamped with shadows of age and wear, skin pale and ashen. A testament to the trials he underwent while Tim was trying to find him. And if Tim hadn’t been there, he most likely would have died where he was.   
Tim briskly leaves the room to its silence. 

Xxxxxx

Dick had stolen Robin from him. Damian had mocked him. They had both offended Tim in various ways. They would have let Bruce die.   
Now, Tim must decide on a punishment for them. 

How can he do that, however, when he is still so invested? Dick had been the first person to grab Tim’s interest in this world. Had been the first spark of light in Tim’s vision, encased in darkness. Tim simply isn’t able to make an unbiased conclusion.   
Does that matter?   
Dick had offended him. Had stolen from him. Had lied to him.   
And Damian….

Would any punishment Tim ever decided on be too harsh? Or would it not be harsh enough? 

Think. 

Dick has a weakness to emotion. He is an emotional person who tends to keep everything negative he feels to himself. Tim could take advantage of that easily. He wouldn’t even have to use his powers for emotional manipulation.   
Damian, meanwhile, had a distinct fear of failure. Of being thought weak and useless and being discarded. 

Think. 

Oh. 

Without further wait, Tim calls Kon. “I need a favour from you and Bart” Tim starts when Kon picks up, not even waiting for Kon to greet.   
“I need you guys to call the cave and tell them that I’m missing” Tim specifies a second later, when he hears the Whoosh of Bart appearing next to Kon. 

“Is this a revenge thing?” Bart asks immediately, wary. Tim just smiles because now that they know, they know to be wary.   
“Yes. Dick stole from me, called me insane, discarded me and then insulted me for good measure. And Damian stole Robin, called me insane and insulted me, while also offending me with his mere presence” Tim explains, frown growing on his face as he speaks.  
“I’m guessing that I’m not allowed to punch them in the face then?” Kon asks with a sigh and Tim’s frown fades. 

He really does have the best friends. 

“I’m not going to stop you. Call the cave, tell them that you lost track of my heartbeat and that Bart can’t find me anywhere. Make sure the Titans hear you. Also, you guys have full permission to do whatever you want to them, as long as you act like I’m missing. Just make sure to tell the others afterwards. This is Dick and Damian’s punishment. Not everyone’s” Tim says, starting to think further into his plan.   
He can’t stay at his apartment. He can’t stay at the manor. Nor the tower.   
Wonder if Cissie is up for a visitor?   
Probably better that he doesn’t make her think he’s gone missing again, too.   
She holds a worse grudge than Tim goes. 

“So you’re giving me permission to punch your brother in the face? Because that’s what I’m hearing” Kon says and Tim can hear the smile over the phone.   
“Just hold back on the strength. I need him alive, Kon” Tim stipulates before hanging up, hearing the start of a mock sinister laugh from Bart. 

Now, to vanish.


	17. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's plan starts to fall into place

The call comes through to the cave in the early morning. 

Bruce is still recovering in the watchtower. Babs is the one to answer the call as it comes through, as Dick and Damian are still on patrol and Alfred is asleep.   
“Batcave. What do you need, Titans?” Oracle asks as her icon appears on the Titans main screen. Kon doesn’t waste time. Bart had already woken every Titan up with frantic eyes but a sneaky smile.   
“We can’t find Red Robin. I can’t hear his heartbeat anymore and Impulse can’t find him anywhere” Kon says, forcing his voice to be urgent and frantic.   
Babs sees right through it, face appearing on screen to give Kon a flat look “Revenge?” she asks a second later as she eyes the rest of the Titans. Tim had probably seen that coming though, as Babs lets out a tired sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll allow it” Babs eventually voices, switching over to her insignia again as the voices of the Demon Robin and Batman filter through the speakers. 

“Batman. Robin. The Titans have lost Red Robin. Superboy is unable to hear his heartbeat, Impulse has failed to find him and I can’t track him” Oracle voices over the comm.   
“Fantastic. One less interloper, then” Damian voices snidely before Dick talks over him “Nobody can find him? At all?” he sounds vaguely concerned over that but not panicked and it makes Kon’s stomach sink. 

If Tim had dropped off the face of the earth after losing everything? And being in a bad mental headspace like he was? Kon would have lost his mind trying to find him.   
Dick just sounds confused. 

“Dick. Did you not hear me? Superboy. Can’t. Hear. His. Heartbeat” Oracle repeats and this time she sounds venomous. Kon could tell that she was hesitant to implement Tim’s plan for revenge at first, only a few moments ago, but now, her voice is strong with a lace of anger and fake panic.   
Cassie, at Kon’s back, gives Kon a weird look that he can feel through the leather jacket, but stays quiet. After all, Tim’s hit-list is not somewhere you want to end up, ever. 

“Maybe he just has a vest on” Dick speculates but Bart smiles at the note of concern in his voice now.   
“Whatever. Call me back when you’re ready to start caring about your brother” Babs says venomously as she switches off the comms. 

“You know where he is?” she asks, and this time, it’s directed at Kon.   
“No idea. But he’s safe. Called a little while ago asking that we call the cave and say that he’s missing. He’s probably gone to ground with some cold cases to keep him busy” Kon says with a small smile, remembering the times that Kon has had to literally pull Tim free from his work. Sometimes, violently. Like that time Tim’s tech came to life and tried to eat him.   
And now that Kon knows what Tim is, he understands why Tim had looked more annoyed than scared. 

“Any idea what he’s avenging?” is Babs’ next question and the whole Titans team straightens behind Kon. None of them know what happened. One moment, Tim was Robin with them and the next, Tim is missing, using the name Red Robin and Batman was trying to foist a new, bloodthirsty Robin on them.   
Kon hesitates. Bart doesn’t. “Dick took Robin from Tim, called him insane, refused to believe him and then gave Robin to Damian. Meanwhile, Damian has tried to kill Tim” a slight pause as Bart thinks “at least 2 times. Tim is pissed” he says easily, eyes wide with mischief and nerves. 

Bart had been researching everything about Tim and his kid ever since the thing with Harm. He knows exactly how vicious Tim could get. But he doesn’t think Tim will go that far. Kon agrees, he can’t see Tim doing some of the things that his kind are said to have done in history. Just can’t see it. 

They’ll let him have his revenge, though. And it seems that Oracle will allow it as well, as she sighs and grumbles about “stupid boys without an ounce of sense” mentioning something Tim had only hinted at before, a revenge plot that Tim had instigated against Bruce once, just when he started. The glint Tim’s eyes had contained had warned Kon off of investigating further. And the laughter coming from Babs just reinforces that instinct. 

The laughter cuts when Babs’ connection is terminated and as one, the Titans turn to Kon for an explanation. “Tim is pissed at a few people and is taking advantage of their emotional vulnerabilities to get his revenge without causing them physical harm” Bart says with a glint in his eye that Kon would prefer to never see again.   
“Minimal physical harm. I have explicit permission to punch Dick in the face. With only the minor stipulation that I hold back on the super strength. 

Cassie isn’t the only one that looks uncomfortable but she is the most obvious. The others look wary and tired. Cassie just looks straight up scared.   
“Cass?” Kon asks, voice hesitant and concerned as she almost flinches back at his voice. That’s when he realises that the expression on her face isn’t fear. It’s guilt.   
“Dick called me a few months ago. Told me that Tim was losing it. Losing himself, in grief. And I found Tim at Bruce’s gravestone… He looked bad. And he sounded crazy and. And.   
I didn’t believe him” Cassie confesses. 

Kon and Bart glance at each other for a moment before Bart tilts his head to the side in a shrug. “Well. He told us that the Titans weren’t a part of the revenge plan. And you’re a part of the Titans. So…maybe he’s forgiven you?” Kon says but Bart’s expression tells him that that is most likely not the case.   
Cassie’s shoulders slump in a mixture of guilt and defeat, saying without words that she also doesn’t think that’s true.   
“Hey. He didn’t give Kon permission to punch you in the face” Bart says optimistically a moment later and Cassie lets a small smile flit over her lips.   
But Kon can see that it’s all an act. Bart doesn’t believe that. And Kon doesn’t either. Not really. 

“So do we have any idea where Tim is camping out?” Bart asks Kon as they both exit the room, leaving a still computer and a silent common room.   
“Nah. He’s probably somewhere in a cave with his laptop as the only light. Drinking grape zesti and eating only pizza with disgusting toppings” Kon says with a small smile. 

Xxxxxx

“Cissie, if you don’t give me the remote right now-“   
“You’ll what Tim? You love me too much to hurt me. And I am not watching another news broadcast while you’re here. It’s bad for your mental health”  
“I liked you better when you were one of us”  
“Ha, right” Cissie says, gripping the remote victoriously until she lands on an animated show with monsters and zombies. “Nope. No monsters, no zombies. Just normal people doing normal people things” she says as she changes the channel again. 

She only stops channel surfing when she lands on an anime show with way too many rose petals, sparkles and flirting.   
“You hate me, don’t you?” Tim asks, staring at the screen in horrified wonder as a blonde guy’s face shifts into unnatural compositions.   
“I don’t hate you. If I hated you, you wouldn’t be here, hiding from the world in my apartment” Cissie says and Tim hates that she has a point. But then, just by being here, he’s already executing his revenge. He can feel some of his teeth elongate slightly at the thought.   
“Absolutely not. I know that expression and I do not want to be involved in your revenge schemes” Cissie says but Tim knows it’s a lie. She quite enjoyed Tim’s revenge against the man that killed her former therapist. 

“Now. No more work, or vigilantes, or heroes or world-ending catastrophes. Just normal people” Cissie says as she falls down next to Tim on the couch. 

Right. Normal people. Like Tim was ever normal.


	18. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick understands what he's done.

“Nightwing is here!” Bart exclaims as he speeds into Kon’s room, sliding with a manic glee in his eyes. 

“Bart. It’s like. 2 AM. Let me sleep” Kon says, pulling a pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the overeager speedster. “But you wanted to punch him in the face, remember?” Bart points out logically and he can see Kon falter “Plus, the demon brat is here. And Tim didn’t specify that we couldn’t mess with him too” Bart says and within moments, Kon is up and ready to go.   
“And everyone thinks Tim is the vengeful one” Bart grumbles, well aware that both he and Kon had spent enough time around Tim to pick up some of his habits. Like revenge schemes. 

“I told you, his trackers are offline and the vital monitoring system in his suit is somehow not functioning. We need them to find him” Dick’s voice floats down the corridor as Kon and Bart approach the living room.   
Inside, they see Miguel, Cassie, Raven, Beast Boy and Cyborg all slumping their shoulders in frustration, before Raven sees them enter and gestures toward Dick. “Nightwing would like you to track down Red Robin’s whereabouts” she says with a voice so bland and blank that Kon can see that she’s given up on rationalizing with him. 

“We already told you. I can’t hear his heartbeat and Bart can’t find him in any of his usual boltholes” Kon says, turning to see Dick in full Batman getup, which makes Kon’s heart squeeze with sadness and the demon brat at his side with a superior smirk and the Robin costume, which replaces that sadness with Rage.   
“Try again” Dick demands with a voice laced with quiet terror and fury.   
“I do not see why we are attempting to track Drake. He is extraneous and no longer needed” Damian says at his side and Kon can see Cassie’s fist clench tightly.   
Kon just holds up a hand, silencing her and the brat, before pulling back and punching Dick directly in the jaw, pulling his strength as directed. 

Dick stumbles back a step, eyes wide as his hand comes to his jaw before Kon hears a battle cry from the demon and Bart is suddenly handing a thrashing 10-year-old with a shard of Kryptonite.   
“Control your child. Or I will revoke your access to the Tower” Cassie says, staring at the kryptonite shard with wide eyed anger. “I don’t care if you were once a Titan. You’re Batman now. For now. Control the brat or I will revoke both your accesses” Cassie says a moment later, voice clear and strong as she stares down the blank lenses with no fear. 

“Damian. Stand down” Dick says a moment later, voice still shocked as he cradles his jaw, staring at Kon in confusion. It just makes Kon angrier.   
Damian struggles for a moment more before stilling with an annoyed huff.   
“Let me set this straight right now” Kon starts, anger in his voice as he steps back, away from Dick, Bart following his lead and running to stand with the Titans. “You ran off my best friend. No. No interrupting. You watched as Tim lost everything in a single year. As Steph faked her death, I died, Bart died, his mom died. And you decided that losing all of that wasn’t enough. You took Robin from him, called him insane, turned half of the community against him. And then left him out to dry.   
You didn’t even seem all that worried when we called in that Tim was missing. It’s been days! And now you come here, demanding that we find him. Well maybe he doesn’t want to be found” Kon says, huffing by the end of it as Dick’s shoulders slump in guilt.

Damian tuts at Dick’s side and opens his mouth again, no doubt to criticize Tim or insult him but Dick makes a gesture with his hand and Damian’s teeth click together as they close.   
“I’m sorry” Dick says quietly as his shoulders slump further, hunching to make the formidable form of the bat small. “Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry! I was stressed and annoyed and scared! And I made bad decisions. I should have talked to Tim before I gave Robin to Damian. I should have thought before I added to his pile of stress. And I’m sorry, OK?!” Dick yells at the end and Kon is surprised to see tears sliding down the cowl of the bat before Dick’s shoulders shake and he basically collapses.   
Bart is there in a moment with wide eyes and a hand on Dick shoulder as he breaks down. 

A moment ago, Kon had been so angry he’d punched him in the face. But Kon had never seen Nightwing cry. Never. He’d never seen Batman cry either. It just made a weird image.   
But Kon can feel his anger leaving his body as Dick’s shoulders shake. Meeting Bart’s eyes, he can see confusion, pity and a small spark of anger still lingering. But they’re both in agreement.   
Looking Dick over, Kon can see the effect that the last few days has had on him. Broken ribs, bruises of varying states of healing, even a stab wound to his abdomen.   
“He’s been looking, you know” Oracle’s voice says quietly in Kon’s comm and by the way Bart jumps, Kon knows he can hear it too. “He’s been looking everywhere. Hasn’t slept. Agent A has had to force him meals and water because he forgets. Damian has been trying to keep him stable and I have too, but. He’s breaking apart. I think it just reminds him too much of Jason’s death” Oracle explains, a note of tiredness and sadness in her voice. 

“That’s all I wanted to hear, O” Tim’s voice says over the comm, quiet and pleased. Satisfied. 

Kon and Bart nod at each other before Bart disappears from Dick’s shoulder. Kon takes his place, standing next to Damian, who looks unsure about how to help Dick and is just standing to the side, awkwardly patting Dick’s shoulder and avoiding his eyes.   
A whoosh of air signifies that Bart is back and once Tim steps forward out of Bart’s arms, Dick tackles him in a hug as his sobs worsen. Tim doesn’t even falter under the weight of Dick’s body but fakes a stumble back anyway.   
Now that Kon knows to look, he keeps seeing those little hints. Like the way Tim’s smile is sometimes too large or when the shadows seem to reach out for him.   
Now, the opposite seems to be happening. The shadows that cling to Tim’s skin fade slightly as Dick clutches onto his brother. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Tim. I wasn’t thinking. And I wasn’t taking your life into account. And I took Robin from you. And then I called you crazy. Tim. Tim I am so so sorry” Dick babbles incoherently but Kon can tell that Tim needs to hear this. Not necessarily the words but instead he’s looking at Dick’s chest with a small, satisfied smile. Only glancing at Damian’s chest for a moment to tilt his head.   
“It’s OK Dick. I’m sorry I worried you so much. I just…wanted to show you how angry I was” Tim says and it sounds so real. So genuine. But Kon knows the hesitation, the smattering of guilt in his voice, is completely fake. Tim had planned this out to the finest detail and this was the outcome he wanted. 

Kon and Bart meet eyes over Tim’s shoulder and give a shrug.  
It could have been worse. Much worse.


End file.
